What's Your Favorite Memory?
by hooknleather
Summary: On a business trip to Nashville, Killian finds himself reunited with the "Girl" who had previously broken his heart. Now, for one weekend in the city's music scene, a past and present romance will be reborn and challenged. [A CaptainSwan/The Dust Storm AU Oneshot (May continue as multichapter)]


**Quick one-shot I wrote a while ago, of a Dust Storm AU. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, I might do when I finish L &F if you guys are up for it! Let me know in the reviews what I should do!**

 **[Side-note] Lines from the movie are in bold and I do not own any characters from either OUAT or The Dust Storm.**

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What's your favorite memory?

 _"Smelling your pillow, been drinking some wine, I'm thinking about you, all of the time. I'll admit that I miss you, if you admit it was wrong, to go back to the city, and leave me a song._

 _Fingers, keys, soothing tones. A piano._ Her golden hair falling over her face as she lost herself in her music. An intake of breath, his deep brown hair tickling his cheeks as its overgrown strands fell over his eyes. His throat contracts, swallowing as his memories invaded his anxious mind.

The room was dark as his back rested against the posters of bands, his goal to join them up there fading rapidly as he thought about her. The way her fingertips danced elegantly over the black and white keys of the piano, the gentle smile creeping up on her as she felt the music rush over her.

He breathed deeply, his back leaving the paper-covered wall as he pulled himself up. The time for reminiscing was over. His stomach churned as he readied himself. _Would this be the last set he ever performed?_ He didn't know. But he would perform it in memory of the woman who had stolen his heart. His regret ached as he walked into the room, sitting before the man who held himself with a type of overwhelming superiority, despite his bar looking run-down and full of grime.

 **"You write the songs, the ones you sing?"** The man asked after studying him. Killian's fingers twisted together in his lap anxiously as he nervously looked at the man from under his dirty and matted locks of hair.

 **"Yes, sir."** His voice was barely a whisper. The man nodded his head softly, setting the cigarette between his fat fingers between his lips and lighting it. Killian held his breath as the smoke was expelled from the man's lungs. _He hated cigarettes._ They reminded him of her. Killian was broken out of his reverie when the man acknowledged him again **.**

 **"I know you."** Killian looked up at him, trying to recognize the man's face, but failed. As he spoke, the man reached behind him, a glass of amber liquid that now clutched in his grip **"Your kind. You get swallowed up."** The glass connected with the man's lips as he sipped the alcohol.

Killian let out a breath of understanding. He said nothing, simply looking at the glowing orange end of the cigarette as the man raised it to his lips again, sucking the toxic fumes into his lungs so differently from the way she had used to do it. This man inhaled as if his life depended on having the nicotine infect his system, blackening his lungs. She used to inhale with poise, composure, elegance. She smoked well, uniquely, enjoying it rather than doing it because she was addicted like the man before him.

 **"You got the six o clock slot, be off the stage by six thirty."** The glass of liquid that Killian assumed was whiskey took the place of the cigarette again, titling over the man's lips as he drank again. **"There's no pay, but you can drink what you can drink from the bar."**

Killian swallowed. _No pay._ He didn't need pay. He simply wished to share his music, for probably the last time. He didn't want to drink, why would he? It reminded him of her too much. He nodded his head slightly, so that the man recognized his agreement to the terms of him playing.

 **"Oh. What's the last song of your set?"**

Killian clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth and his eyes glossing over gently as the question shook him to his core. His breath shook as he drew the alcohol-filled air of the bar into his lungs. He finally looked the man in the eyes as he spoke, the deep blue finally revealing his sadness as he spoke her name for the first time in name in months. The name that caused him such heartache every time it was mentioned.

 **"Emma. The song's called Emma."** The man apparently did not pick up on the way Killian's voice shook as the syllables fell from his dry, cracked lips. Instead he simply sipped from his crystal glass, smacking his own lips together, satisfied.

 **"Good. When I hear it, I'll know it's almost over."** The man said, setting his glass down, picking up his cigarette and standing. He failed to acknowledge Killian again, he just left. He left him alone in the room, presumably to rehearse. The slamming of the door caused Killian to jump slightly.

Releasing another shaky breath, Killian untangled his fingers, leant down and ran his hand along the smooth leather of his guitar case. It was now or never. He had to do this, he needed the sweet release of music to aid the tempest of his mind, to sing about her, to finally move on and try to let her leave his memory, even though he knew deep down that his attempts were fruitless.

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 **If you guys want, please check out my cover of Over and Over from the Dust Storm on my Twitter[ /mrskillianjones] and tweet me telling me you're from my fanfic family! Kristen Gutoskie who plays Nora in TDS actually replied to it! (I high-key died)**

 **See you next with an eagerly awaited chapter of Lost and Found.**


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